


Recipe for a Successful Relationship

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there’s one thing Jared Padalecki knows, it’s food. His butter-poached lobster with a butternut squash gratin could make you weep and if challenged he could julienne a carrot with his eyes closed. He’s at home in the kitchen and now—busier than ever with his own restaurant—he occasionally feels like the kitchen <i>is</i> his home. That isn’t to say he’s not happy, though—because he is. Real happy. In fact, things outside the kitchen are better than ever as his relationship with his best friend, Jensen Ackles, begins to evolve from casual sex into something more. All that’s left is to figure out how to balance his personal and professional life, which should be about as easy as the perfect consommé.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recipe for a Successful Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, I would like to thank my lovely artist [lamapan](http://lamapan.livejournal.com/). This is my first year participating in the challenge and I was immediately inspired by her prompt. I've always wanted to write a chef AU and am thrilled she provided me with the opportunity. She made every step of this crazy process a complete joy and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to collaborate with. I recommend you check out the [art post](http://lamapan.livejournal.com/8409.html) immediately because gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe her illustrations. Thank you, darling! So happy to have worked with you.
> 
> I’d also like to thank the wonderful [tsubasalove87](http://tsubasalove87.livejournal.com/) for their speedy beta work. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Also, thank you to the mods at [spn-reversebang](http://spn-reversebang.livejournal.com/) for running such a great challenge!

Two new tickets came in. 

Snatching both from the window, he called out, “Two haddock, two halibut.” His voice rang across the kitchen and he turned back to the pan. The cod was almost finished sautéing; it began to flake beautifully, as if whispering to him that it was ready, and he removed it from the heat. Sliding the pan toward Jake—one of his line cooks—he called, “Garnish,” and Jake promptly plated the cod. He finished it with basil and then turned to the window, where he set it alongside a plate of scallops. “Order up,” He called and the tray was immediately carted off to hungry customers.

Jared loved nights like this. Nights where they moved swiftly from one task to the next, functioning like a well-oiled machine. It was nights like this that made his heart swell with pride because all of this was his. From the wonderful staff to the lease attached to the building, and he couldn’t be happier.

He could already tell it was going to be a busy night. More so than usual, but he’d anticipated it. Some foodie magazine had published a blurb about them and the recommendation had people driving in just to try their food. If Jared had a moment to breathe—to really reflect on the mild popularity he was experiencing—he might have been terrified. Instead, he just kept going. Charged forward at full speed. Only six months of business under his belt and JP’s Catch was well on its way to becoming a known name even outside the small, coastal town of Cape Annabelle, Maine. It was awesome, but he understood things could easily go sour. What he needed to focus on was quality. To make sure people kept coming back, even after the buzz subsided.

Pans sizzled around him and the scent of garlic wafted through the air. He passed Felicia, who was plating a shrimp cocktail. His steps slowed and he watched her stack the greens neatly atop the jumbo shrimp and then finish the plate with a dollop of dill mustard and a fresh slice of avocado.

“Looks good,” He told her and she flashed him a bright smile. 

Then, suddenly, Genevieve was at his side. He looked down at her, and her expression was pinched in a way that told him she was worried about something. In her arms she carried a pan with two pieces of halibut ready to be broiled. 

“We’re running low,” She told him.

“On the halibut?” It was their special for the night, and she nodded.

“Yeah. Two hours of service left, I’m not sure if we’re going to make it.”

“Well, that’s why we say specials are limited.” He paused, and shrugged his shoulders. “Everybody wanting it just means you’re doing a good job.”

“Thanks.” But there was a distinct nervousness in her tone. She took her job as sous-chef seriously and didn’t like letting the customer down, even if it was something they couldn’t predict like running out of the special. He nudged her back toward her station.

“Keep cooking, Cortese,” He said lightly. “Everything’ll be fine.”

She gave him a small smile and shuffled back to her station while he continued to circle the kitchen. He checked in with each line cook and then ducked out to the front to make sure everything was under control. Kim, his manager, gave him the thumbs up and he felt pleased as he headed back into the kitchen. At his station he pored some oil into his pan and glanced over at Jake, who wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to the scallops in front of him. “Abel,” He said, snapping his fingers in his direction. Jake glanced at him, wide-eyed, and Jared shook his head. “Toss those,’” He said. “They’re overdone. A minute and a half on each side, remember?”

“Sorry, chef,” He murmured, and he threw the overdone scallops into the trash. Which was a shame because they were gorgeous sea scallops, but he couldn’t have his customers getting a plate they could hardly chew their way through. He watched as Jake started a new batch, this time staring intently at the pan as he seared them, and Jared nodded his head curtly before he turned back to his own station. 

The rest of the evening dissolved into a blur of hot pans and sizzling oil. 

By the time service came to an end, he was exhausted. A pleased, give yourself a pat on the back for a job well done sort of exhausted, but exhausted nonetheless. It had been a few nights since he’d had time to cook during service. It was a treat, really. Cooking cleared his mind. Reminded him why he wanted to open his own restaurant in the first place. 

Now, the final dishes were carried out of the kitchen and Jared called out a congratulatory, “Good work tonight, guys,” A few of his staff gave him smiles or nods and Genevieve passed him on the left.

“Good work yourself, chef,” She said, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder.

“And look at that, two pieces of halibut left,” He called after her. “Told you everything would work out.”

She flashed him a knowing smile over her shoulder and then disappeared into the dish room. He stood in place for a second. Wiped his hands across his apron and watched his staff begin to clean their stations. He’d have to make his rounds again. Check in with everyone and then head to his office. There would be voicemails to take down and emails to return but hopefully he’d be out of there before midnight.

And then tomorrow was another day. 

It never ended, but it was worth it.

 

~

 

Hopes of being home early were shattered early on. 

He didn’t make it in until half past one, but he still managed to rise with the sun in the morning. Normally he’d sleep in, go for a run, and then started his day around ten or eleven but today was Saturday and that meant the best selection at the local fish market.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes and his body protested as he dragged himself from bed. The hot spray of the shower soothed tired muscles and he tried to clear his mind. Tried to relax for a moment, but instead found himself thinking about sautéed shrimp with lemon and steamed littleneck clams. His menu was constantly on his mind. Specials and new additions or how to tweak what they were currently serving. 

The shampoo gave a sickening sputter as he tried to squeeze some into his palm. A few drops came out and realized he’d forgotten to buy more. He cursed mentally and shook what he could from inside. It had been on his ‘to do’ list, but had been edged out by the mental question of how to improve upon their lobster bisque. He’d had one a couple weeks ago—warm and silky and topped with a glazed cream. It really knocked his socks off and he wished he could mimic the feeling it gave him in the one he was currently serving.

But he digressed and the point remained: He might need a refresher on priorities. Before he could dwell over it however, his thoughts floated to firecracker calamari. That could work. They didn’t have calamari on their menu currently—he’d have to ask Jensen about it.

By the time he was out of the shower and dressed, he was back to clams. As he walked out the front door he was thinking steamed with garlic and oil. Simple, but sometimes simplicity made the biggest impact. No bells or whistles to hide behind, just good food. By the time he reached the docks he had a small list of things he needed to pick up and a second list of ideas. His mind was buzzing and he was happy to see that the small row of stands were relatively quiet. Nothing sucked more than trying to buy during the middle of a rush.

A couple vendors were still setting up—placing fresh and frozen fish out for display, and as he approached Jensen’s stand he could see him speaking with Jim, one of the fishermen he worked with regularly. As Jared came to a stop, Jensen caught his eye and gave him a small wave. Jared waved back and then began looking over the selection as he let them finish.

The market was the best place to get seafood. Vendors either bought from or were experienced fisherman and you knew you were buying quality. 

This was especially true when it came to Jensen. He was picky and wouldn’t allow anything short of perfect on his stand. Jared admired that. It was what drew him to him in the first place, when he had been trying to find a reliable vendor for the restaurant. Jensen hadn’t tried to talk him up or sell himself to Jared. He’d simply given him a few samples and said to come back if he liked it. He let the fish speak for itself, and while Jared had gone back and cooked it he had already made his decision. Now, Jensen was one of his best friends and he couldn’t imagine buying from anyone else.

“Hey, man,” Jensen greeted him a couple minutes later. He was dressed in his jacket and a heavy pair of gloves for handling fish. He pulled them off and flexed his fingers. Stretched them a little while eyeing Jared up. “You look like crap,” He commented, and it evoked a chuckle from Jared’s chest.

“Thanks,” He said. “Greet all your customers that way?”

“Only the ones who look like they haven’t slept in a week.”

He was teasing, but there was an edge of concern in his tone. Jared rolled his shoulders back in a lazy shrug and said, “Been busy.” Because he didn’t like it when Jensen motherhenned him but he knew he probably had a point.

“Busy’s good,” Jensen said. “Sleep is good too, though.”

“Thanks, mom,” He said dryly. 

His eyes began to scan the selection Jensen had placed out for the morning. Behind them, a boat pulled away from the dock and the voices of fishermen floated in and out with the breeze.

“Hey,” Jensen said after a couple seconds. “I read that thing—the review. In that hipster, foodie magazine. Congrats, man.”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed a little. Lifted his hand and rubbed at the back of his neck because he could see the amused smirk in Jensen’s eye. He didn’t think much of that scene. Didn’t think much of people who saw food or restaurants as fads and skipped from one to the next. But it was bringing him customers—for now, at least—so Jared couldn’t knock it.

“We should celebrate.” He lifted a sea bass above the table as he spoke and for a moment Jared thought he was suggesting they celebrate with fish. He quickly realized he was just setting it out for display, however, and he mentally slapped himself on the forehead. Jensen carried on with, “Drinks on me at the Harbor?”

“Man, that sounds good.”

“Tonight? Eight, maybe?” He lifted his brow and Jared sighed.

“Can’t—I’d like to cook during service. I could slip out near the end, though. Around ten thirty?”

“I need to be up early.”

“Well, we’ll figure it out.”

“Always do,” Jensen replied, his tone tinged in disappointment.

Desperate to elevate the mood, Jared clapped his hands together. “What’s the situation here, then,” He asked. “Any recommendations or should I go with the usual?”

“Well.” Jensen looked over his stand and then back toward some of the other fish he hadn’t put out yet. “Got some pollock that looks good… how’d the halibut go over?”

“Oh, it was great. Broiled it with a little lemon and garlic. Got a lot of positive comments.”

Jensen perked up a little at that. A pleased smile crossed his expression and he said, “Good to hear. You know what…” He trailed off and pursed his lips in a way that made him look exceptionally adorable and Jared suddenly really wished he could find the time to hang out with him that evening. He shifted in place a little and Jensen finished his thought by saying, “How ‘bout we try some littlenecks and then your usual?”

“I was thinking about littlenecks earlier, actually.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” He grinned.

“Great minds, man,” Jensen said with a warm chuckle. “I’ll wrap ‘em up, then.”

“Sounds good.”

 

~

 

“Bay scallops.” 

The words rolled smoothly off his tongue. A hand crept beneath the sheets and rough fingertips grazed Jared’s hip. “Small, sweet, _succulent_.”

“What else?”

“Mussels, maybe?” He smoothed his palm over Jared’s stomach and then dipped two fingers beneath the waist of his boxers. “Tender and light with just enough chew.” 

“Sole,” Jared murmured. His tone bordered on pleading and Jensen’s lips curved into a small smirk. “Describe sole to me,” He said as he thrust his hips up just so.

Jensen withdrew his hand and Jared immediately missed the contact. He huffed a little, frustrated and then felt Jensen’s chin butt his shoulder playfully. “Thought we were planning your specials for the week,” He said. His voice was a low rumble against Jared’s shoulder and hot breath ghosted his skin. “This is getting indecent.”

He smiled down at Jensen. “Hard to be decent with you talking dirty like that.” He tried to come off as seductive, but the way Jensen rolled his eyes told him he’d failed. 

“Could probably talk you off just by describing food.”

Jensen’s tone was light—teasing—and Jared lifted his chin a notch. “Wanna try?” He asked, which earned another huff of laughter.

“Outta here, freak.” Jensen jerked his thumb toward the door. “Gotta be up early.”

They’d finally gotten those celebratory drinks. Those drinks led to more drinks and eventually they made their way back to Jensen’s house, where they had promptly fallen into bed together. It was a familiar routine. Something they hadn’t visited in a couple weeks, but Jared always appreciated blowing off a little steam with him beneath the sheets.

“Thought we were having fun,” He mumbled as he rolled out of bed. 

His bare feet hit the cool, hardwood floor and he gathered his clothing. Began to tug his jeans on and as he zipped them, he caught Jensen’s eye. He looked unfairly good right now—hair mussed and cheeks still a little flushed. The sheets pooled around his waist, providing Jared with a view of his upper body; muscled arms, smooth chest, and the smattering of freckles that dotted his shoulders. Heat pooled warmly in his stomach and if he hadn’t begun to get dressed he might have tried for round two.

“You’re killing me, man.” In only his jeans, he dropped back to the bed. The mattresses dipped beneath his weight and he leaned into to kiss him. Long and slow and when he pulled away Jensen’s eyes were wide with surprise.

“What was that?”

“Couldn’t help it.” The corner of his mouth tugged into half a smile. “Just wanted to… you know.”

“Oh.”

Jensen made an indiscernible noise in the back of his throat, and Jared pushed himself back off the bed. Forced himself to, because part of him wanted to crawl right back into bed and stay there. Wanted to hold Jensen as he fell asleep and wanted to kiss him awake in the morning. 

But that wasn’t part of the deal.

He finished getting dressed. Tugged his belt through the loops and then pulled his t-shirt over his head. As he threw his plaid button-down over his shoulders, he heard Jensen clear his throat. “Jim says he’s got some primo lobster,” He said. “Interested?”

“How big?” He’d just stocked their tank, but was always in the market for more—especially if they were the giants Jensen sometimes wrangled for him.

“Couple pounds each.”

“Oh, definitely.” He nodded his head and ran his fingers through his hair a few times. The knotted strands caught between his fingers and he added, “Might not be able to swing by until later, though.”

“Whenever you get a chance.”

“Cool.”

He took a step towards the door. Lingered in place for a moment and watched as Jensen tucked himself back against his pillows and hitched the blankets higher. “See you tomorrow, then,” He said, his voice already a little fuzzy with sleep as he relaxed into the mattress.

“Yeah.” He paused. Tapped his fingers against the door frame and added, “Night, Jensen.”

“Night.”

Then he left. Walked his familiar route down the hall and out the front door, locking it securely behind him.

As he stepped out into the cool, night air he drew a slow breath in. Allowed the air to clear his mind. As he exhaled, he tried to push the hollow feeling from his chest. The feeling that seemed to manifest itself a little stronger each time he left Jensen’s, because while hooking up with him was supposed to be fun and easy it was slowly becoming anything but. 

“Damn,” He murmured, and then walked off into the night.

 

~

 

He went for a run the next morning.

Jogged through his quaint neighborhood, past neat rows of capes with steeply pitched roofs and gables, and down to his favorite trail. 

Maybe a mile in it morphed into an elevated boardwalk. Crossed the water and offered him a magnificent view. Views like this were what made him fall in love with the area. Made him want to move here and start a business. He breathed the salty, sea air in and from there he could see the docks. He saw the boats that dotted the harbor and could just make out the market stands. 

Jensen would already be down there, of course. He got up at dawn or earlier most days. Set up shop and sold to tourists and locals alike. He was great at what he did. His face would light up when he was asked for recommendations or a recipe, and sometimes you could even get a fishing story out of him. He went on his own, or occasionally he went with the men he bought from. The latter was what Jared enjoyed most, because while Jensen knew what he was doing he wasn’t raised on the sea like some of those guys. His cheeks would flush as he described his mistakes, but then his eyes would glint with childlike glee as he talked about reeling something in or helping pull the nets in.

It was cute, really. Not that he’d ever tell Jensen that. Calling him cute got you a playful punch, and calling him cute a second time got you punched for real.

He chuckled a little and picked up pace.

The first time they had sex, it had been an accident.

Not an oops I fell on your dick sort of accident, but a hanging out on the couch, watching the game, and you know what would make this even better? Making out. That sort of accident. They were two single, consenting adults who had needs and not a lot of time for relationships. It made sense and they figured, why not?

And yeah, sometimes he wished he could stay the night. Wished he could take Jensen out somewhere or cook him a nice dinner but… he tried to ignore those urges. This was all he needed and it was all he and Jensen really wanted. The key was that neither of them expected anything more. It was what made this work and he didn’t want to risk ruining it.

Now, he slowed his jog. Passed his mailbox and waved to his neighbor, who was getting into his car, briefcase in hand a donut pinched between his teeth. “Hey, Mark,” He called and Mark waved back. 

He then walked the short stretch of his driveway and went inside to shower before he started his day.

 

~

 

Service began in less than an hour.

“How’s it going?” He called as he stepped into the kitchen. 

This was his first time in there tonight, save for a laughably short tour. Kim was on vacation this week so he’d taken charge of showing the new serving hire the ropes. He tried to match Kim’s vivacity, and while he doubted he came close he still felt like Rachel had a good understanding of everything. She was a small, soft-spoken thing but he knew she had the fire in her to power through especially busy services. 

Genevieve stood beside Jake and both were busy prepping; chopping vegetables and preparing the glazes. He trusted them to have everything ready for service.

“Fine, chef,” She chirped while Jake nodded his head.

“Good to hear,” He said. 

He smoothed his hands over his apron and then realized he’d never picked the lobsters up from Jensen. Crap. It had slipped his mind entirely and while he had plenty in the tank, wasting perfectly good seafood was not something Jensen took lightly. If he set something aside, he expected it to be picked up. He cursed quietly beneath his breath and glanced at the clock while he wondered if there was enough time to run over there. Before he could entertain the thought long, however, the back door opened.

Jensen walked inside. He looked around the kitchen and visibly relaxed when he caught Jared’s eye. In his arms he carried a heavy cooler and he gestured with it as he said, “Got the lobsters.”

Jared met him partway across the kitchen. He opened the lid and grinned at the sight. Genevieve was pushing up behind him suddenly, pressing her small body against his waist and peering into the cooler as well.

“Holy shit,” She squealed. “These are perfect. You’re perfect.” She reached up to pat Jensen’s cheek, a gesture that made him roll his eyes fondly and blush a little, then she grabbed the cooler from him. “I’ll put ‘em in the tank,” She said and Jared thanked her with a quick smile.

“Thanks, man,” He said after a moment.

“Wasn’t sure if you were going to show, so I thought…” He shrugged and Jared shot him an apologetic smile.

“Time got away from me. I really appreciate it, though.”

“No problem.” He waved his hand through the air and then took a step toward the stations behind them. “Smells good in here,” He commented as he watched Jake julienne some carrots.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

Jared smiled a little and reached over to one of the stations. He grabbed the plate that still had half a piece of sole stuffed with crab on it; it was their special for the night and Genevieve had fired a couple off as practice. He held the plate out and asked, “Wanna try? I ate part but I swear I don’t have cooties.”

“I’d of probably caught them long ago if you did,” Jensen replied with a wink. He eyed the piece of sole for a second or two and then grabbed the plate from Jared. Taking a bite, he shook his head slowly and murmured, “Jesus.” And as he swallowed added, “This is fantastic.”

The compliment warmed him from head to toe, but he played it off with a smile. “My ego thanks you,” He drawled. Let that little bit of Texas come out in him because he knew Jensen liked it when his accent showed. He’d begun to lose it over the years; too much time spent on the east coast, but the same went for Jensen.

Jensen popped the last bite into his mouth. Scraped the plate as he finished and made small noises that gave Jared deliciously dirty thoughts; if it wasn’t a health code violation and wrong on so many levels he might have entertained the idea of having a quickie somewhere. In his office or the store room; maybe something involving a creative use of that hazelnut spread they've got for desserts. Occasionally he demonstrated restraint however and decided that he could wait until later.

“Got any plans tonight?” He asked. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossing his chest, and Jensen looked up at him. He seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

“Nope.”

“How ‘bout you come by after service? I was thinking dinner and then…” He trailed off and lifted his brow in a way that left little wondering about what he meant. 

“And then…” Jensen mimicked, smirking. “You lookin’ to get some, Padalecki?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, make good on that promise of dinner and we’ll talk.”

“Sounds good. Come by around ten fifteen or ten thirty, then? If that isn’t too late.”

“Thanks, man. I’m not that old.” He paused, then admitted, “Tomorrow’s my day off so I don’t have to—“

“Tuck yourself in at nine?”

“Fuck you,” He muttered, laughing. “No, it's fine. I’ll see you then.”

“Sounds good.”

And there it was. That goofy sort of twisting in his stomach that made him grin dumbly and unearthed urges to kiss him right here and now. But they weren’t like that. Kissing him in public would lead to an awkward conversation about his distaste for PDA and questions of whether or not Jared fully understood their arrangement.

But he could touch him.

So he reached out, gave his upper arm a quick squeeze, and then Genevieve was hurrying back between them.

“They look like monsters next to the others!” She said, a little breathless and grinning. She pushed the cooler back into Jensen’s arms.

“Glad you like ‘em,” He said, smiling down at her.

“Thanks again,” Jared said. “And see you later.”

“Yeah, later,” Jensen gave him a small wave and then made his way back to the door. As he disappeared outside, Jared turned back to the stations and found himself beneath Jake’s stare.

“What’s up, Abel?” He slipped back into the persona of executive chef and walked to the sink to wash his hands. 

As he scrubbed at his skin, he heard Jake say, “Didn’t know you two were together.”

“We aren’t.”

“Seems like it,” He commented with a light shrug of his shoulders.

“Not sure why you'd think that, but we're just friends.”

“It’s the way you two look at each other. So much lust and passion,” Genevieve called from her station.

“No one asked for your opinion, Cortese,” He called back and she stuck her tongue out at him briefly before turning focus back to whatever she was working on. Prepping crab for the sole, probably. 

Jared rolled his eyes and said, “My relationships aren’t relevant to the kitchen. Now, we’ve got six reservations coming in a half hour—let’s be sure we’re ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Genevieve and Jake chimed in unison, and the rest of the evening dissolved into a whirlwind of order tickets and the sounds of pots and pants clattering against burners and counters. 

 

~

 

Around ten thirty, he slipped out from the kitchen and made his way up front.

The dining room was quiet and the final customers for the evening were finishing their meals. Their plates were practically clean and Jared paused next to their table to ask how the food was. He thanked them for stopping in and they thanked him for a wonderful meal. He took a moment to savor the feeling of a job well done. This was what he loved—seeing customers enjoy his product and knowing he made somebody happy.

Jensen was standing near the hostess stand, smiling at him.

“Looks like they enjoyed the food,” He commented.

“They did.”

“Must feel good,” He said, and Jared nodded.

“It really does.”

He led him into the kitchen. It was quiet as most of the staff had already left. All they’d had to do was clean up their own stations since he was going to be using the rest of the kitchen again in a few minutes.

His area was already prepped. He had most of the ingredients ready and was about to quickly chop some of the larger chunks of lobster into bite-sized pieces when he felt Jensen brush up against his side. He’d taken his jacket off and was down to an olive-colored t-shirt that fit him like a glove. It hugged his chest and showed off his arms, a sight that made Jared’s throat run a little dry.

“You gonna cook for me?” He asked. His tone was light and amused, but there was a glint in his eyes that told Jared that he was secretly pleased by the idea.

“I am.”

Jensen rocked back on his heels. His smile grew and he said, “Been a while since anybody’s cooked for me.”

“Hard to believe that.”

And that made Jensen huff. “Been a while since I’ve had anybody,” He explained. “I mean, with the market and politics with the fishermen and…” Then he trailed off and quickly backtracked. “Not that I mean you’re somebody. I mean, you are somebody—you’re my friend—but I don’t mean…”

“I understand,” Jared said, chuckling a little. “I’m your best friend. Your best friend who happens to be a hot piece of ass that you can’t keep your hands off of.”

“So romantic.”

“I try my best.”

“Alright, then,” Jensen said, moving on. “What’re you making for me?”

“Lobster roll.”

“Yum,” He said with a hum. “Are we going off menu?”

“We are.” 

Jensen watched him cook. He helped season the meat and toasted the buns for them. When it was all finished he topped them off with pickles and then Jared carried both plates to the dining room. It was empty, save for two of his servers—Alona and Emily—who were wiping the final table down.

“Night, guys,” He called as they took their aprons off.

“Night, Jared,” Alona called back. “See you tomorrow.”

Jared took a seat across from Jensen, who took a bite of his lobster roll and shook his head slowly. His eyes fluttered closed and he smiled as he finished chewing. “This is great,” He said. “Really great.”

Jared took a bite of his own, and while the taste was good he enjoyed the look on Jensen’s face a little more.

“Figured it was about time you got to see what I actually do with your fish.”

“Mm.” Jensen hummed through his bite and shook his head. “Been here a few times,” He said, swallowing. He lifted his napkin to his lips and Jared lifted his brow because that was news to him. He’d never seen him in the restaurant and Jensen hadn’t mentioned it.

“When?”

“Right after you opened,” He answered simply. “Wanted to make sure you were doing my product justice.”

“And?”

“Still selling to you, aren’t I?” A playful smile turned his lips, but his tone made Jared question whether he was actually joking. Then he continued, lowering his voice a little. “No, I really enjoyed it,” He said. “It told a story. It was like I could taste the passion and love you put into it. Which sounds ridiculous, but.” He shrugged and Jared leaned into the table a notch. The amount of flattery was a little overwhelming. “It’d been a long time since I’d eaten anything as amazing or as… I don’t know, moving? I guess. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” Jared assured him and Jensen lifted his chin to meet his eye.

“Well, good, because it sort of made me want to get to know you. I thought to myself, there’s something special about this guy. And I was right. There really is something special about you.”

His heart was hammering in his chest. He swallowed thickly, tried to smile, and managed a quiet, “Thanks.” Then he felt Jensen’s hand on his. He rubbed his thumb across the back of his knuckles softly and smiled. 

“I’m happy for you, Jay. Happy this is going well because you deserve it. I’ve seen so many people come through and…” He paused. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips and then he shook his head. “Well, you know. Successful businesses are few and far in between.”

“God, do I know. I can still hear my parents voices in my head. How they laughed when I said I wanted to open a seafood restaurant—a seafood restaurant in Maine, no less.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They thought I was stupid. I mean, they weren’t happy with me wanting to be a chef in general but they thought this was an even worse idea. Only…” Jared pulled his hand away from Jensen. Stretched his arms out on either side of him and smiled. “It’s real. And it’s going well.”

The décor around them was simple. Dark blues and hard wood with netting on the walls and photos of fish dispersed throughout. Jensen smiled at him from across the table and Jared carried on, “Sometimes I can hear Guy Fieri in my head. Like, coming by to feature this place and being all, _What’s business does a southern guy have coming to Maine to open a seafood restaurant?_ And I’d laugh and he’d try the food and talk about how amazing it is… god, I’m sorry.” He chuckled and dragged his hand across his face, unable to believe he was telling Jensen all of this. “You must think I’m a complete dork right now.”

“No, no.” Jensen shook his head. “It’s cute.”

“Hey, I call you cute and I get punched.”

“The difference is that you actually are cute. Adorable, really. I mean, those dimples,” He shook his head and then shot Jared a sly grin. “Keep talking, I want to hear about all your dorky fantasies for the fabulous future of JP’s Catch.”

“You sure you want to open that can of worms?”

“Definitely.”

“Well.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m picturing a feature in Food and Wine magazine and possibly a James Beard. And then…” He carried on. Kept talking for over and hour and even got one or two wild fantasies out of Jensen. His weren’t so much wild as boringly realistic, but it was still nice to see him dream. 

Then, once they cleaned the kitchen up and closed everything up, they went back to Jared’s place. 

The sex was intense. Far from the norm, but nothing he’d ever object to.

Normally there was groping, a little sloppy kissing, and maybe a couple crude jokes before they stripped down on got to business. That night, however, there wasn’t any of that. Every touch set Jared’s skin aflame and he felt like he was going to explode as he waited for Jensen to kiss him. It was like the dial had been turned from five to one hundred. He pressed his body against Jensen’s. Undressed him slowly and licked up into his mouth with a heat he never knew he was capable of. 

Afterward, Jensen didn’t leave. He let Jared tuck himself against his back. Let him hold him. 

And as he listened to the rhythm of his breaths slow, he murmured a quiet, “I could get used to this.”

“Me too,” Jensen replied and they both drifted off to sleep. 

 

~

 

He made breakfast in the morning.

Woke up early and left Jensen curled up in his bed, tucked beneath the covers and looking pleasantly debauched. In the kitchen he’d set to work. Made lemon ricotta pancakes with huckleberry compote and a dollop of whipped cream. 

When Jensen finally stumbled into the kitchen an hour later, he was dressed in a pair of Jared’s sweats, which were a little too long, and his t-shirt from the night before. His hair was mussed and he scratched absently at his stomach as he padded barefoot across the kitchen floor. He paused at Jared's side. Leaned into his shoulder a little and watched him finish the pancakes.

Jared promptly set a plate in his hands and he muttered a quiet, “Jesus,” at the sight.

“You like?” He was feeling especially giddy that morning. He’d always been fond of surprises and he’d been picturing Jensen’s as he made breakfast. The look on his face didn’t disappoint. Jensen’s eyes flicked up to meet his and he smiled.

“I love,” He said earnestly and then picked his fork up and moved to the counter to take a bite. He slammed a hand flat against the countertop as he chewed his first bite and huffed as he swallowed. “Man, you’re gonna make me fat.”

Jared chuckled a little and bumped his hip against his side. “Don’t care,” He said, because truth be told, nothing could make him like Jensen any less. He kissed him. Nipped at his lower lips a little and then licked the sweet and tangy taste of lemon and huckleberry from his mouth. The stubble along his jaw was rough and when he pulled away, Jensen’s eyes were wide and his lips parted ever so slightly.

“Hi,” He said quietly.

“Hi,” Jensen replied. “You have—“ He lifted his hand. Wiped a finger across Jared’s cheek and drew it back to show him the white substance that coated his fingertip. “Flour,” He said.

“Thanks.”

He rocked back and grabbed a plate for himself. They took their seats at the counter and ate in silence for a few minutes. Only the sound of forks scraping the plate filled the air as they enjoyed the meal. It was pretty damn good, if Jared said so himself. He didn’t make breakfast often, only for himself, and he was pleased that Jensen enjoyed it.

It was Jensen who finally broke the silence. He cleared his throat and said, “So, what is all of this?”

“Hm?”

“This.” Jensen gestured to the plate.

“Breakfast.”

“Oh, thanks,” He retorted dryly. He rolled his eyes and said, “I’m not blind, Jay. You’re acting a little…” 

“A little what?” He asked, urging Jensen to finish the thought. Because he honestly wasn’t sure where he was headed with this. 

Jensen drew a short, calculated breath in and said, “Boyfriend-y.”

“Boyfriend-y?” He repeated. He couldn’t hide the amusement in his tone, because… well, it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing in the world. And maybe he’d had some less than fuck buddy-ish thoughts while going to sleep last night, or waking up this morning. Okay, maybe he had a point—but he wasn’t about to admit it so he played it off with an irritated sigh as he said, “What? I’m not allowed to make my buddy some pancakes?”

“Oh, your buddy loves it when you make him pancakes,” Jensen replied. “But he gets a little confused when you kiss him all sweetly and massage his thigh beneath the counter.”

Jared’s gaze followed Jensen’s, trailed downward and he realized he was in fact feeling his thigh up beneath the counter. In his defense, Jensen had really nice thighs. Muscular but with a hint of softness. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away.

“Sorry.”

“This is why I don’t like to stay the night. It’s difficult, figuring out how to act in the morning.”

“I know, I know.” He took a breath. Briefly he entertained the idea of deny, deny, deny but where would that get him? A few more weeks or maybe months of supposedly meaningless sex with Jensen? As appealing as sex with Jensen is in any situation, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. He could only bury what he was actually feeling for so long. So, he raised both hands above the counter, palms up as if to symbolize his openness, and he said, “I know we agreed we wouldn’t become invested but… it’s hard. Harder than I thought it’d be.”

“I know.”

“And—“ He’d been ready to barrel forward. The floodgates were open and he’d meant to keep going, to explain himself, but he stopped short. In his mind he replayed the last five seconds—wanted to make sure he’d heard right—and then, his voice pitching upward in surprise, he asked, “You do?”

“Well. Yeah.” Jensen smiled a little. “I’m not a robot, Jay. You’re charming and, yeah. Sometimes it’s a little difficult to keep emotionally distant. To keep things as casual as we agreed to.”

“Oh.” It caught him off guard. He’d known he had been falling hard and fast for the past months, but he hadn’t expected the same from Jensen. 

“But before you get all giddy, I don’t really—I’ve never really done relationships so this is confusing for me on quite a few levels.”

“But you _had_ thought about a relationship? With me. A relationship with me?”

“Yes, loser. A relationship with you. But—“ He shook his head. “I don’t even know how it would work. Most days, I can hardly remember to take care of myself. I don’t know how I’d fit another person in there.”

“Think I can take care of myself, Jen.”

“You know what I mean.”

And yeah, he did. Because jokes aside, it was the same concern he had. 

It’d been a few years since his last boyfriend. 

Misha was five years ago, almost six now. He’d started seeing him in his last year of culinary school. He’d started out as somebody Jared bought pot from and fucked occasionally—funny how most of his relationships stemmed from casual sex—and eventually became something more. 

Then, Jared had gotten a job at a popular restaurant in Manhattan. It had been an exhilarating, amazing experience but he worked under a demanding chef and seventy hour work weeks became the norm. He hardly ever saw Misha. While the split had been amicable he could still hear the disappointment in his voice; because even if Misha was a free spirit who changed plans as quickly as he made them, he was still capable of being disappointed by a boyfriend who constantly canceled at the last minute.

Now, he was busier than ever. He didn’t want to put anther person through that, but for some reason he really thought they could make it work. Maybe it was determination or plain ignorance, but he wanted to give it a shot. Wanted nothing more, actually.

“What if I said I really wanted to try?” He lifted his brow as he spoke, and kept an eye on Jensen’s expression.

“I’d say you were nuts,” Jensen replied. Then he paused and rolled his eyes fondly. “Then again, I sort of love how nuts you are.”

“Then.” He reached out and took Jensen’s hand. Squeezed it lightly and said, “I’d really like to give it a try.”

He could tell Jensen wanted to resist. Wanted to shoot him down and never look back, but even those who painted themselves as immune to feeling had to give in eventually. After a drawn out pause he said, “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

He could hardly control the glee that bubbled up in his chest. And while the nerves remained—irritating whispers that caused him to question whether or not they could this—the euphoria briefly erased them. Because at that very moment, he felt like he could take on the world and in comparison to that a relationship with Jensen would be a piece of cake.

“I won’t let you down” He promised as he leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of Jensen’s mouth.

“Better not,” Jensen murmured, smiling.

 

~

 

He’d planned to take Jensen out the next day.

Figured he’d surprise him by taking the night off and bringing him to dinner at one of his favorite places. It was a great plan, in theory. In his mind Jensen would grin, unable to remember why he ever doubted this whole relationship thing, in the first place. Then they’d have an amazing dinner, share a couple laughs, and have mind-blowing sex after.

See. Great plan.

Only, in reality, two of his line cooks showed up sick. A hacking, feverish sort of sick that upset him off not only because he had to send them home and it meant there was no chance of him taking the night off, but why would they even come in. Why would they risk spreading whatever the fuck it was they were fighting through the restaurant? He’d thought he and his staff were on the same page with the customer always coming first, but times like that reminded him that he was probably kidding himself. They cared about paychecks and about propelling themselves upward in the culinary world, end of story. 

He recognized the cynicism he was radiating, but the night was barreling downhill and despite his sunny nature he was having a hard time being positive.

“Jesus Christ, Abel,” He shouted as he spotted the scallops about to leave the kitchen. He snatched the plate back and threw it down in front of Jake. “What is with you and burning the scallops? I swear, half the supply gets tossed because of you. One more time and I’m moving you back to salads.”

Later, he would look back on the scene with a little guilt. He’d realize he probably looked like a less British and buffer version of Gordon Ramsay, but nothing was going right and he’d been pissed. Placed alongside the fact that he could have been spending the night with Jensen only made it more irritating.

“This sucks,” He muttered.

It was just past midnight and he sat shoulder to shoulder with Genevieve. They’d hit the Harbor after service—actually, she’d ushered him out of the kitchen and insisted she buy him a drink before he snapped and killed something or someone. Now he was three beers deep and feeling a little less angry. Conversely, he was feeling a little more introspective and miserable. Oh, the power of alcohol.

“Shouldn’t have tried it. Should have kept it the way it was.”

“Don’t say that,” She chided him. “You guys haven’t even tried yet. You can’t let one failed attempt deter you.”

“Not a great start.”

“Edison made over a thousand attempts at the light bulb before he succeeded.”

He gave her a look that said I don’t follow, and she jabbed him lightly in the ribs with her elbow. “What I’m saying is that the greatest things come from rocky starts. If at first you don’t succeed, and all that motivational crap.” She waved a hand through the air and he smiled.

“Thanks, Gen. Such an inspiration.”

“I try. Now.” She gestured to the bartender, signaling for the bill. “I’m tired and I think you’ve wallowed enough so let’s call it a night.”

“Won’t argue with that,” He said as he threw a few bills down to contribute for his part of the bill. It had been a strangely emotional night and as they walked out into the night he was eager to start fresh tomorrow.

 

~

 

“We should get lunch.”

He stood in front of Jensen’s stand. It was just after eight thirty and the market was buzzing with activity around them. Five people had already pushed up beside Jared, clearly irritated by both his size blocking their view and by the fact that he wasn’t just ordering and leaving. He’d stepped aside for each but now there was a lull and he took advantage of it. Jensen toyed with the buttons on his coat and nodded.

“I could do lunch.”

“Anywhere you want.” Then with a wink he added, “And I know you’ll want to pick this fantastic little place called JP’s Catch, but sadly they don’t serve lunch. Not yet, at least.” 

“I’ll power through the disappointment and think of something,” Jensen replied dryly.

“Alright,” He leaned across the stand. Almost kissed him, but stopped short. “Is this okay?” He asked quietly, meeting Jensen’s eye. He could see how he’d gone a little stiff, and he angled his chin up a notch, his eyes darting around.

“Um. Yeah, but quick,” He said lowly and Jared opted for a quick peck on the lips before rocking back to his full height.

“See you later, then.”

And while lunch admittedly wasn’t the most romantic of meals, they still had a nice time. They ate at a little place that overlooked the water. Their table sat on the patio and from here they could hear the waves crashing against the rocky shore. This sort of atmosphere was what he loved about the east coast. 

“Used to take road trips up and down the coast,” He said as their appetizer arrived. Oysters on a half shell—something Jared had never been particularly fond of, but he knew Jensen loved them. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thought I told you that.”

“Don’t think so.”

“In culinary school, with a couple friends. We’d leave New York during breaks and try all sorts of food along the way. I loved it.”

“S’that what made you want to move here?”

“Big part of it. You?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why we haven’t talked about this before. I know you’ve been here… what, eight years now?” He stretched his arms out on either side of himself, gesturing the scene around them. “What brought you here in the first place?”

“Uh.” Jensen faltered. Pink tinged his ears. Began to spread across his cheeks and he was obviously embarrassed when he admitted, “A guy.”

“A guy?” He hadn’t really expected that. It might have appeared somewhere on the list of possibilities, but if it did, it was pretty far down. His image of Jensen was someone who did things for himself. He knew what he wanted and didn’t let others get in his way, so it was a little surprising that something like a guy would be the route of an important milestone in his life.

“Um. Yeah. Guess that’s why I don’t really talk about it.” He paused. Took a sip of his water, then continued. “I was… twenty-four, I think, and visiting a friend in Portland. Things… weren’t that great because my parents weren’t thrilled with the whole I like girls but I really like guys too thing, and I didn’t really want to go back to Texas. So, I was trying to figure out my next move and that was when I met Jeff.”

“Jeff. And what did this Jeff look like?”

“Rugged and handsome,” Jensen said, his tone light and obviously a challenge to make Jared jealous. It was sort of working. He sat up a little straighter and Jensen continued, smiling to himself. “He was a nice guy. A fisherman with his own boat and he… sort of showed me the ropes. I’d always loved fishing but he was the one who really introduced me to the idea of seafood and everything it offered. He took me on a couple of his runs and while I knew I could never do _that_ for a living, I really fell in love with the idea of fish. Which sounds weird, but I worked at a couple markets and then when we came through Cape Annabelle I loved the town so I thought I’d stay.”

“Were you and Jeff…” He lifted his brow and Jensen pursed his lips.

“Sort of. I mean, I really liked him but he wasn’t—he didn’t really do relationships.”

“Where’ve I heard that before?” Jared asked teasingly. Jensen met his gaze briefly and rolled his eyes.

“He was one of the few others who I actually wanted to try it with and… it never happened. He still comes through occasionally. I see his boat and. Well. He always says hi but I guess that part of our relationship is over. The romantic part and I guess the friendship part too.” He swallowed thickly and lowered his eyes to the table. “I’m glad we’re giving this—“ He waved a hand between them. “A shot. Because you can only do the casual thing for so long and I don’t—I don’t want to lose touch with you like that.”

“You’ll always be my friend. No matter what,” Jared assured him, and Jensen offered him a tight-lipped smile. 

“That’s good to hear.”

They moved onto lighter topics after that. 

The oysters were finished and they traded bites of their meals—a medley of haddock, shrimp and scallops for Jensen and grilled salmon for Jared. They talked about their mornings and Jared talked about what was on his agenda for this afternoon and tonight. 

After they finished, Jensen walked back with him to his restaurant. Out front, he pushed up onto his toes ever so slightly to kiss him. The path in front of the restaurant was quiet, but it was still a surprising (but pleasant) display of affection. Jared kissed back and when he pulled away, Jensen smiled.

“See you later,” He said with a small wave.

“Yeah, see you.”

Then he went inside. In his office, he sat down at his desk to get a little business done before his staff arrived, and he was feeling significantly better about where they stood.

Like, maybe they’d be okay after all.

 

~

 

“I need to go,” Jensen mumbled partway through breakfast. 

It was technically his day off, but his phone had been going off every five minutes and the way his brow creased told Jared something was wrong.

“Problem at the docks?” He asked as Jensen stood up from the counter. He was still in pajamas, and he strode toward the bedroom to get dressed.

“Yeah,” He heard him call.

“Anything I can help with?” Which was sort of a silly question, but he could try. He was really good at trying.

“Not unless you know how to fix the cold storage. Power went out or something. Has to be fixed soon or we’re going to have bigger problems on our hands.”

“Oh.” While he was familiar with the walk-in freezers at restaurants, what Jensen dealt with was an entirely different animal. They were made to hold tens of thousands of pounds of fish so he shook his head and yelled back, “Sorry. Might not be much help there.”

Then he looked at Jensen’s plate and frowned at his hardly touched stack of French toast. Glancing back over his shoulder, he decided not to let it go to waste and stabbed it with his fork. He was moving it to his own plate when Jensen walked back into the room. He was wearing one of Jared’s t-shirts over a pair of jeans.

“Stealing my food?” He asked, pressing his chest against his back.

“Stealing my shirt?” He retorted, angling his chin up to look at Jensen over his shoulder. Jensen stuck his tongue out briefly then leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

“Thanks for breakfast,” He said as he stood back up. “And sorry for having to run.”

“See you later?” He called after him, but Jensen was already gone.

From there, Jared began to notice a trend. 

Began to notice what a comme phrase, "I'm sorry," was becoming between them. One that was tossed from Jared to Jensen, from Jensen to Jared, and back again.

They made plans for dinner, but that was thwarted by a party of twelve showing up without a reservation. Which was fine, but Jared knew he couldn’t leave his staff to cook for a group that size. It would slow everything else down in the kitchen and they'd be running behind the rest of the night. Jensen had already been waiting for Jared in his office, dressed in an especially flattering button-down and slacks that made Jared want to take him right there. But he couldn't, so he ushered him up front and told him to order whatever he wanted on the house.

“It’s fine,” Jensen had said, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Guilt gnawed dully at his chest the rest of the night, and Jensen had peaked into the back to say goodbye but all Jared managed was a quick wave before dashing back to check on the clam chowder he’d put on. He didn’t see him again for another two days, and that was only to pick up his order for the restaurant. They chatted idly for a couple minutes but then a couple appeared behind Jared and he quickly said goodbye, not wanting to make a habit of interrupting Jensen’s business. 

“It’s just kind of weird,” He said one afternoon as he helped Genevieve stock the shelves in the back. She’d come back from an inventory run and he stacked the bags of onions in the corner of the storeroom. “I mean, I’m dating him but it doesn’t really feel like it.”

“Told you, not everything starts out swimmingly.”

“I know, I know. But… I expected things to change a little. To feel like I finally had a boyfriend, but it’s just.” He stopped, unsure how to put it. “It’s almost like we saw each other more when things were casual. I mean, sure, it was in the middle of the night and only for a couple hours, but still. Now we’re putting all this effort into trying to go on dates and then there’s the disappointment when things don’t work out, which sucks, and you know—I don’t think we’re even having sex as much.”

“La la la,” Gen sang, pressing her hands over her ears. “You’re my boss. I don’t need to hear about your sex life.”

“Please,” He snorted. “You love to hear about my sex life.”

“Not at work, buddy. After a few beers I’ll lavish in the sordid details, but I need to focus right now. Do you see sweet potatoes over there or did I forget them?”

“No, they’re here,” He said, nudging one of the boxes on the floor with the toe of his shoe. Then he heaved a sigh and glanced up at the clock. “I have to make a few phone calls before service. Think you can handle the rest?”

“Of course,” She told him. “And cheer up. Everything’ll be fine, remember?”

“Right,” He said, not even trying to sound convinced.

 

~

 

They tried to have lunch a few days later, but Jared had to split partway through and an attempt to watch a movie after work one night ended in Jared seeing Thunderbolt and Lightfoot in its entirety while Jensen slept against his shoulder. He ate the popcorn himself and while he enjoyed the film and the sound of Jensen snoring softly in his ear, it wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted the night to go.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

Almost another week passed before he saw Jensen anywhere outside of the fish market.

He stayed late at the restaurant. Replied to most of his emails and took down voicemails he’d have to return in the morning. It was almost one by the time he got home, and he saw Jensen as soon as he reached the porch. He was seated on the porch swing, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. Smoke curled up into the air and Jared’s stomach twisted at the sight; partly because Jensen looked especially good when he smoked, partly because Jensen only smoked when he was stressed.

“Hey,” He said, stepping up onto the porch.

“Hey.”

He shifted on the seat. Moved to the left and Jared quickly sat down in the vacated spot. He let his thigh brush Jensen’s. Knocked his knee against his and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket because it was a little chilly outside.

“What’s up?” He asked after a long moment. A small part of him wondered if Jensen had shown up for a quickie or even to just spend the night, but he doubted that. Not with the way he looked right now, wracked with nerves the skin beneath his eyes bruised in a way that illustrated how little sleep he’d been getting lately.

“Wanted to talk,” Jensen replied. He took one last drag from the cigarette and then plucked it from his lips. He tossed it to the ground and crushed it beneath the toe of his boot, then frowned. “I’ll clean that up,” He said in an apologetic tone. Jared waved his hand through the air, not really concerned with the dark ash that stained the wood.

“It’s fine,” He said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” He said slowly, but that was obviously a lie. Jensen fisted his hands against his thighs and drew a short breath in. “I just. I keep trying to get it out but by morning I’ve lost the nerve or I’ve convinced myself that something is going to change and—“

He cut him off. Could already tell where he was headed, and he wanted desperately to stop it. “Don’t,” He said. “Just… don’t.”

Jensen smiled at him, this time sadly. “You know what I want to say.”

“I do.”

Because he’d known it was coming. They’d been “dating” a little over a month now, if you could even call it that. A string of brief sleepovers, friendly lunches, and canceled dinners was a more accurate description. It had been a while since he’d been a relationship, but he knew it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. 

“This isn’t working, Jay. We both know it.” He could almost hear his heart drop from his chest to his stomach, and Jensen continued. “I want it to work. I really do. But I also want to see my boyfriend—hell, I want to feel like I have a boyfriend..” He paused and raised his hands to his face. He raked his fingers over his features and shook his head. “I feel so fucking selfish right now,” He said, the words muffled by his fingers.

Jared drew a hand out of his pocket and placed it on Jensen’s thigh. He squeezed lightly and said, “Don’t. This is exactly what I didn’t want to put someone through again. It’s why, on one level, I loved just fooling around with you—it meant I wasn’t disappointing you.”

“You aren’t disappointing me. I’m just as much at fault here, if not more.”

“Well, either way,” He said, realizing there was no use arguing over the details. “I think we can agree it sucks.”

“It does,” Jensen said, nodding his head. “But what sucks even more is that I don’t think I can go back to how things were. I know I can’t be with you without wanting more, only now I know more doesn’t work. So.” He left it at that. Silence enveloped them. It weighed heavily on their shoulders. He could hear a dog barking in the distance. He closed his eyes for a moment. With his thumb he rubbed soft circles across Jensen’s thigh, the denim of his jeans comfortably worn and smooth. 

Finally, he said what they were both thinking.

“So, we’re back to friends. Sans benefits.”

The realization hit him like a brick, and next to him Jensen nodded his head curtly. “I guess,” He said.

“Didn’t want tonight to go this way,” He admitted. “Didn’t want any of this to go this way.”

“Me neither.”

They sat quietly, side by side, for a little while longer. Neither was sure what to say, and while Jared wanted to beg him to give them another chance he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. Because it was selfish. Selfish to try to force Jensen into a relationship that he wasn’t capable to delivering on. So, instead, he patted his knee and then leaned over. He placed a kiss just below his cheek, along his jaw, and savored the feel of his stubble beneath his lips. He wasn’t sure what he’d get to feel that again, if ever.

“I need to be up early,” Jensen murmured, casting his gaze down to the ground. “I should go.”

“Okay.” He stood up alongside him, and walked the few strides to the edge of the porch. He stopped at the stairs however, while Jensen kept going. “See you later,” He called, uncertain what to say but needing to say something. Jensen didn’t respond, just lifted his hand behind him in a small wave goodbye.

Jared stayed on the porch a few minutes longer. Remained in place and drew one breath in after the other, the cool, night air filling his lungs and then releasing. He wasn’t sure how he felt. Numb might be the best description, as much of a cliché as that was. All he knew for sure what that the emptiness created by casually seeing Jensen was bad, but it was nothing compared to the thought of not being with him at all.

 

~

 

He sent Genevieve on his seafood runs the next few mornings. 

The claim he made was that he needed a change of pace, which was partly true. He needed to clear his mind and figure out how to move forward from here. He wanted to be Jensen’s friend still. He wanted to keep that promise. At the moment, though, it was hard. The idea of hanging out with him and knowing he couldn’t kiss him or touch him, and the thought of Jensen possibly going off and getting another boyfriend (as unlikely as that was) killed him.

A text arrived shortly after Gen left the first day with their order. It was from Jensen and asked where he was because, in the history of JP’s Catch, no one but Jared had picked the seafood up. He sold the same story to Jensen, and he seemed to buy it—or at least he claimed to. He said he understood and hoped he’d seem him again soon. He suggested they grab a few drinks, and while that sounded good it also made Jared’s heart ache a little. Drinks normally meant Jensen getting drunk and giddy, and he’d be all hands on the way back to whoever’s house they chose to go to. 

He sighed quietly and set his phone down, then went back to work planning his menu for the week.

 

~

 

“Why so glum?”

Jared seared the scallop on one side. Flipped it in the pan and then glanced at Gen as she slipped her chef’s jacket over her t-shirt.

“I’m not,” He lied.

“You’re pouting and cooking those poor scallops to death. What’d they ever do to you?” She pulled the pan away from him and he frowned.

“God, I’m as bad as Abel, aren’t I.”

“I don’t think he’s ever done anything this bad,” She said, peering into the pan. “This is a travesty. Now, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Fight with the boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend to fight with,” He admitted, and that earned him a pointed look.

“What happened?”

“It wasn’t working, Gen. It just… we couldn’t figure it out.”

“You know, you keep talking about how hard it is and boo-hoo, what relationship isn’t hard? You two like each other, anyone can see that. And I know you’d be good together if you just thought outside the box a little.”

“I don’t know what that means,” He muttered, only half listening. When he looked up, she gave him a look that said are you serious and then she carried on.

“You’re a chef, Padalecki. I know you have an imagination beneath all that fabulous hair because some of the recipes you come up with—I don’t even know. I’m envious because I wish I had even a fraction of the creativity you do.” She swooped her hair up into her hands and began to tie it back in a tight bun. “You need to transfer a little bit of that imagination to your relationships. We get into this traditional mindset of what it means to date somebody. Dinner and a movie, that sort of thing. The problem is that our industry revolves around dinner so that time—and large portion of the rest of the day as well—is out.”

“Exactly,” He said.

“Right. That’s where you need to get creative. Go out to eat at one of those twenty-four hour places before he has to get to the docks in the morning or just spend time together. You two already know so much about each other so who needs dates, why don’t you just spend some time alone.”

“That’s what I want,” He admitted. “I just want to be with him.”

“I know you do. And I know you can do it.”

He drew a long breath in and then opened his arms in an open invitation for a hug. “Bring it in,” He said, and she immediately fell into them, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “Thanks,” He said. “I needed to hear that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” She said as he released her from the hug. “Exceptional cooking and life advice.”

“I appreciate it.”

Around them, the line cooks and servers began to arrive. Conversation rumbled through the kitchen and Genevieve glanced around. “How ‘bout you let me take the reigns tonight,” She suggested. Which he knew she could handle since she’d done it countless other times. And it was probably a valid suggestion, given the way he’d been feeling tonight. He wasn’t sure if he’d trust himself behind a stove at this point. With a glance at the tortured scallops, he nodded.

“Sounds good.”

“Okay, chef. Take the night off and everything will be here in the morning.”

“I can do that.” Then he paused. An idea sparked in his mind and he glanced back to the stock room. “I might need to borrow a few things from the pantry, though.”

Gen seemed to follow what he was thinking. “You do that,” She said with a wink, and then she hurried off to prep before service.

 

~

 

“Uh, hi?”

Jensen’s voice rang through the kitchen. His tone was inquisitive and a little nervous..

Jared turned back from the stove and smiled at him. “Hi,” he said, and Jensen lifted his brow.

“Why are you in my house?”

“Because I know where you keep your spare key.”

“And you’re in my kitchen because?”

“Because I thought I’d surprise you.” He took a step back and gestured to the stove. “Dinner. For you. Well, for us.”

Jensen set his bag down at the counter. He walked over and took in the scene; his eyes scanned the ingredients spread across the counter and the pots already going on the stove. “Well, I’m surprised,” He said. “That’s for sure.”

“Is this okay?”

He hadn’t expected it to go this way. Not necessarily. In his mind Jensen had been visibly thrilled, overcome by what a sweet gesture it was. Then again, Jensen wasn’t a sixteen-year-old girl walking into a surprise birthday party so the scene in his mind was admittedly flawed. In reality, he looked a confused. Intrigued, but confused.

“It’s fine,” Jensen assured him after a moment. His gaze flicked up and he met Jared’s eye. “I just thought you’d be at work.”

“Took the night off. I—I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” His expression softened, and now they were closer to what Jared had anticipated. “That’s really nice,” He said quietly and Jared smiled.

“Well, somebody told me that no relationship is easy and that I might need to think outside the box a little to make it work. So this is where I’m starting—a small surprise and the promise that I can take a night off occasionally. For you.”

The corner of Jensen’s mouth quirked. He took a step back toward the counter and said, “Well, I like the sound of that. And now is where I admit that I stopped by the restaurant, looking for you.” He opened his bag and pulled out a familiar candy-striped bag that Jared recognized from his favorite bakery. “Bought you cookies and thought you could eat them after service or something. But you weren’t there and—well. I wasn’t sure what to do, but now you’re here.”

“That’s so sweet.” He took the bag from Jensen and opened it up. The buttery sweet smell of snickerdoodles wafted up and he grinned. “Awesome.”

“I can do surprises too,” Jensen commented and Jared nodded.

“That you can.”

“So.” He took a step closer. “What’re we having?”

“Pecan crusted haddock with butternut squash and cornbread stuffing.”

“Amazing.”

“And a fresh spinach salad with a cider-bacon vinaigrette on the side.”

“Also amazing.”

“So, not to change the subject but.” He asked. He turned to face Jensen and placed his hands on his waist. Pulled him close and slotted his hips against his. “What’s going on here. You want to give this another chance?”

“God,” Jensen breathed. “You have no idea how many times I started to call you or how many times I imagined you calling me.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. I want this, and I want it to work. And I’m sorry for bailing on you when it wasn’t going the way we thought it would.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. It gave me the kick I needed, because we couldn’t have carried on like that. We’d crashed and burned eventually, but now I had time to think—to figure this out.”

“Exactly,” He agreed.

“And this time, when I say this is going to work it’s with a hundred percent confidence.”

“Me too,” Jensen said softly, and the words warmed Jared head to toe.

He smiled and then Jensen tilted his chin up. He met Jared’s eye and parted his lips ever so slightly, a clear invitation for a kiss. Jared leaned in and met his lips. Captured them in a soft, sweet kiss. He pulled Jensen closer and eliminated any space between them. He raked his hands up and down his back, trying to memorize every inch of him. He’d missed this. He’d missed him.

“Just put the fish in the oven,” He murmured as he pulled away. “We have about twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes,” Jensen mused. He fisted Jared’s shirt in his hands. Tugged him even closer and smiled. “Got a few ideas for what we could do.” And then he was pulling him back toward the living room. 

Jared grabbed the timer from the counter and eagerly followed.

End


End file.
